


pastiche ;

by therentyoupay



Series: santa kris 2013 ; holiday gift giveaway [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Crush, Bittersweet, Christmas, Christmas Party, F/M, Holidays, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therentyoupay/pseuds/therentyoupay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing Neji knew, it was that he simply didn't have time for girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pastiche ;

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pangea-drift](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pangea-drift).



> **Disclaimer:** I don't own!  
>  **Gift Date:** December 5th.  
>  **Gift Prompt:** _pangea-drift_ asked for something that was a bit like the incredible _[rawrchelle](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1354057/rawrchelle)_ 's [petrichor](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9394480/1/petrichor), "where everyone is included and there's a little development for them all." She was hoping for some Sakura-centric fic with the prompt _pastiche_ , which is "an artwork combining materials from various sources," and is particularly fond of Itachi, Deidara, and Neji. :) Like me.  
>  **Author's Notes:** I had such big, big plans for this fic. :( It was very close to becoming a full-fledged multi-chapter, but I cut it off before it really even had a chance to bloom into a one-shot... which unfortunately means that a lot of your original prompts didn't quite make the cut! D: I'm sorry! My original plans would have allowed me to at least touch upon each of the prompts your requested, including the ones I didn't post here, but I'm afraid I didn't quite have as much time as I'd hoped. :( Hope you enjoy it, anyway! (Also, I'd been dying to write some NejiSaku for a while, and your prompt seemed like the perfect opportunity! I'm afraid the Sakura-centric element was supposed to come in later... :( Bah!)  
>  **Musical Inspiration:** "Ho Ho Hopefully" by The Maine.

 

 

**&**

If there was one thing Neji knew, it was that he simply didn't have time for girls.

Not when there were exams to study for and homework to complete and future destinies to prepare for. Not when he was eighteen and had too little free time on his hands—not that he really needed any, of course—and especially not now, when his uncle was no longer calling the shots, and his cousin needed his protection more than ever from loudmouth blond boys, and one of his friends _also_ happened to be one of his biggest rivals and he was tired, every single day, after school and chores and life and practice.  
   
He didn't.

**&**

"What are you working on?"  
  
Neji doesn't look up. He'd noticed her presence when she'd first arrived, precisely two-and-a-half minutes ago, and he'd been waiting with equal parts dread and hope that she would leave the library before spotting him at the table by the window; supposed genius that he was, he should have known better.  
  
"Calculus," he responds quietly, because he _is_. He's trying to focus. It's not meant to be cold or rude, or anything of the like, because he's _not,_ but then he thinks briefly that—maybe—it'd be better if he _were_. (He sees a flash of something. A memory, fresh from that morning. A couple that wasn't a couple at all, together yet apart, dark with bright, opposites in all the worst ways, the most poorly-executed combination on all the planet.) He scowls at his textbook, and continues working.   
  
"Nice to know I have such merry things to look forward to a year from now," she quips, still standing off to the side of his chair. Neji knows that it is rude of him, that he has not invited her to sit down, even though it is clear that he intends to continue his quiet study session after her interruption ends. He detests rudeness.  
  
"Have you given any more thought to which colleges you'll be applying for?"   
  
His pencil stills over the page.   
  
"Sorry," she laughs sheepishly, and he senses as she shifts her weight to adjust the stack of books in her arms. It's clear that she's come to the library to work. He could ask her to join him. "I know that's like, the number-one most-hated question amongst the seniors right now."  
  
Finally, he looks up. It's not a conscious decision, by any means, but once his eyes are on hers—bright green, even in the awful fluorescent light, shining with the frosty light reflected from the large window—it's not really possible to look away. "I'm still deciding," he says, and his tongue feels thick. He can't tell if that's from the urge he's swallowed down to tell her more, or the sudden bout of well-hidden, somewhat-managed anxiety that threatens to overtake him.   
  
Sakura nods at him, smiling a little bit in understanding, and Neji's stomach clenches, briefly.   
  
"Anyway, I just wanted to say hi," she says abruptly, shrugging a shoulder. She looks a little embarrassed, which only makes _Neji_  feel embarrassed. Which he also detests. And he's still looking at her, but he's not quite paying attention until she shifts away and kindly says, "Good luck with the rest of your homework."   
  
It takes him a moment, but then he nods, a small but genuine show of appreciation. There. Not so rude, anymore. Pathetic, maybe, and reserved, but not rude. Just maybe not very friendly either.  
  
(And that, he thinks, is probably for the best.)  
  
"Oh, hey," she calls, and he looks up from his textbook once more, to where she stands a few paces away. He wishes that he hadn't. She is smiling at him when she asks, "You're coming to the Christmas party, right?"  
  
Neji's eyes narrow. He hadn't been aware of any Christmas Party. A brief blip of resentment washes through him—a habitual feeling borne from too many years under the control of a guardian that was more concerned with his value than his worth—but he stifles it quickly afterward, and sets his pencil down, in control of himself once more. He reminds himself that he's really not that big into Christmas, anyway.  
  
"I'm still deciding," he says, partly to be diplomatic, partly to cover up the fact that he hadn't known about such a party, and mostly for the way she smiles at him afterwards, at his pitiful attempt at humor.   
  
"Well," she begins, tilting her head thoughtfully, and there it is again, that twisting in his gut. "Naruto was complaining about how he hadn't heard from you, so I'll let him know. Patience isn't really in his vocabulary."  
  
"Very few words are," he says immediately, though it isn't meant maliciously; if it were, his head would have been pounded into the table by Sakura's infamous fists. He is simply stating a fact. And he also has a question: "Wait. Naruto?"  
  
"Well, yeah. He's trying his hand at hosting."  
  
Well, that explains it; he rarely checks Naruto's messages.  
  
"Where exactly does he plan to host this party?"  
  
"At his apartment, with Jiraiya's permission."  
  
Strangely, that does little in the way of bolstering confidence.  
  
"Do I really have much of a choice?" he asks.  
  
Sakura smiles at him and the answer is _no._ No, he doesn't.  
  
"We'll miss you if you don't show," she reminds him, and his stomach knots at the _we'll_. "We know you're busy, but you could use a break. It'll be fun... Your favorite."  
  
His eyes narrow. "You are mocking me."  
  
Sakura smiles, more softly still. "Only a little," she admits quietly. Fondly. 

**&**

It isn't until after she says goodbye that he considers the phenomenon of _favorites_ , and he wonders about his, and whether or not any of his are actually very good choices at all.

**&  
**

The Christmas party is a disappointment, as expected. **  
**

Mostly because he is torn between outright pretending that he cares _not_ for the fact that his cousin is being pestered relentlessly by a pursuer who is wholly, completely, and undeniably _inappropriate_ for her worth—never minding the fact that he has begrudgingly procclaimed friendship with him since childhood, _irrelevant_ —and strangling Naruto with his own holiday garland. By and by, the once-declared "overprotective" Neji ends up mostly turning a blind eye to Naruto's advances toward his cousin, simply because it seems to be a rather hard enough venture as it is; between all the awkard fumbling and blushing and hesitant affection, there is really left for Neji in the way of torment, or otherwise justified guardianship.

(In fact, Neji has half a mind to direct the two of them underneath the mistletoe, just to be done with it, then realizes that someone has most probably spiked the eggnog, and thank god he still has half a brain left, presumably, or shoving his cousin and childhood friend under the mistletoe would have been the _least_ disconcerting decision he could have made that night. Hence: disappointment. On multiple levels.)

The party is akin to torture in other ways, however, and Neji had known this all too well when he'd placed his small, impeccably-packaged gift underneath the tree; Uchiha Sasuke hadn't exactly been a _difficult_ person to buy a present for, but that didn't mean that Neji had enjoyed the concept of politely presenting him with a Secret Santa gift either. At all.

Neji does, however, take some consolation in the fact that he will not have to watch him open it, at least, which is a small but welcome boon in the general fuck-all that is life and _hello_ , he should probably stop drinking the damn egg—

"Merry Calculus," says a small, bright voice, and he should _not_ be tensing at the sound of a voice, he should _not_. 

Neji turns his head from the window, away from the winter scene that has been his most faithful companion for the last half hour amidst the raucousness that is Jiraiya's apartment, to find that Sakura is beside him, and in her hands is a gift. He blinks, caught between the colors—the bright pink of her hair, green cabled threads of her sweater, shiny red wrapping and pale skin and bright green eyes, an assortment of too many things that _shouldn't_ belong together, but  _do—_ and he is still staring, lost in the moment, when she nudges the package forward. Her scowl is fierce with impatience; her smile, bright with eagerness, and again, it's another contradiction, another set of somethings that shouldn't belong.  
  
"Thank you," says Neji, as the package slips into his hands, and her small, cold hands slide against his, and he feels—as _she_ does—the spark. A small breath escapes her as he inhales— _a soft release, a sharp intake_ —and when Neji looks back into her eyes, and sees it there, he thinks she _must_.

They aren't together. Neji isn't even all that sure they belong together; if anything, he's only grown more convinced that they do _not_. They are made up of too many different parts, and too many pieces—some broken, some not—and that's the last thing he wants, another mismatched pair that doesn't work— _dark and light, cold and bright_ —a bad romance pastiche before the last one has even reached its end.

His hand slips away from hers, slowly and gently, and for a brief standstill of time, the moment hangs in the air, waiting to be caught.

And when she smiles at him, it is gone, back to wherever it is that it belongs—wrapped up tightly, hidden in green and pale white.  
  
"Merry Christmas," he whispers, and means it.


End file.
